Escaping the Cradle

by Karen Page

Part 14

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Part 14
DATE:FC+41

Georgina Harries, Prime Minister of the United Kingdom leaned back in her chair. It was two days after the meeting at the UN, and the calls about it had started to slow down. If it wasn't discussions with world leaders, there was the catching up with home issues. Lewis had stepped up and had handled some of her work, but there was a lot that only she had authority.

"Prime Minister," said Rupert, over the intercom. "I have the Chief Scientific Adviser."

"Put him through," she answered.

"No, Prime Minister. Professor Martyn Miller is here. You have thirty minutes before your next meeting."

"Okay, bring him in," the PM responded, getting up from her desk, and moving towards her discussion area.

A minute later, the biologist and Government Chief Scientific Officer, was sat opposite her. Rupert had drawn up a seat to take notes.

"Professor Miller. This is an unexpected visit."

"Yes, Prime Minister. I thought it was important you know. The scientists behind the spaceship have published a paper. ISAAC met last night to discuss it. The journal website will have it up in an hour. As per agreements long established, certain governments were given a prerelease so we could discuss."

Georgina scowled. She was sure there was someone in the government that just spent their time coming up with these acronyms. ISAAC was the Interstellar Studies and Alien Advisory Council. It was better than GALAXY, which was the Group for Alien Liaison, Analysis and Xenology.

"And?"

"Their scientists are either mad, geniuses or both."

"Does the journal have the names of the scientists?"

"Yes. There are two authors named in the paper. Dr Evan Lancaster, and Dr Laim Mann. They are both known and are reputable. It isn't likely to be a hoax. I spent all night with some scientists working through the paper. It might not be my field, but it is theirs."

She'd met Evan but now had his full name. She didn't want to mention she'd met one of them, so moved the conversation on. "So, do they now understand how it works?"

She was very specific not to say you. After all it wasn't Martyn Miller's field.

"The theory, but not how it is implemented. You didn't go faster than the speed of light. You transitioned via a different dimension. They created a shortcut. There is some relief that they haven't blown the basis of physics. Einstein still stands."

"You said there was no information on how it's implemented. What do you mean?"

"There is no information about how they are opening or targeting the tunnel. Scientists understand what they are doing, just not how."

"When we were visiting the council, we were in a space station orbiting a gas giant. I was told there was life in it."

"In the gas?"

"I'm not sure if it was in the top part, or what is lower down. But they were adamant that there was life. I was told that not all members of the council breathe oxygen."

"Fascinating. I wonder if I'll be able to get specimens."

Georgina was shocked that someone would be thinking about cutting open an intelligent and thinking being. Yes, they weren't human, but that didn't matter. They think and are sentient. Perhaps this is how people thought a hundred years ago about different races in the world. They weren't the same, so they had to be inferior.

"They are sentient beings. In some ways more advanced than us. These aren't bugs on Earth where you can dissect. If you try to do that with one of the aliens, you will cause a diplomatic incident. I don't think you'd want them trying to cut you up to find out how you work."

"But—" he tailed off. "You're right. I've been so excited about them that I didn't think how I should treat them. I wouldn't do that to a human and shouldn't think like that for any alien either."

"Exactly. They have doctors, and medicine, just like we do. I'm sure that there will be research that you can share with them about humans that you can exchange for information about them."

"Such possibilities," he murmured. "Anyway, back to this report. There are some nervous people that are worried that it might be used as a weapon."

"Oh?"

"Just like the test they did, sending the bear to the space station. They opened a passage without issue. They could have sent a bomb through. We have no protection against something like this."

"Noted," the Prime Minister said rather tersely. "Why are you bringing this up? This isn't your remit."

"One of the scientists on ISAAC is the scientific advisor to the Defence Department. It seems the minister thinks this should be under his control."

"Thank you for the update," said Georgina rising. "Please get your teams to continue working on the details. Now you have information about how they are going across space; can you please get them working on a defence. As you say, we don't want it being misused. By the sound of it, the scientists behind this also seem to realise it can be misused, so are being cautious."

"Yes, Prime Minister."

Rupert showed him out but wasn't gone for long. "Prime Minister, while you were in conference with the Chief Scientific Officer, the Home Secretary has been trying to get hold of you. He left two messages for you to get back to him urgently."

"Anything else?"

"No, Prime Minister."

"Okay, Rupert, get Lewis on the phone."

Rupert rang back within a minute. "Prime Minister, I spoke with Lewis's private office. He is already on the way and should be here soon. Apparently, it is something that couldn't be discussed on the phone."

"Oh joy. It's going to be one of those days," she responded. "Okay. Hold all meetings until he gets here."

She didn't have to wait long. With all the congestion policies in place, London was still a nightmare to drive in, yet within two minutes, he was being ushered into her office.

"Lewis," she said in welcome. "What can't be said over secure communications that needs you in person?"

"Defence Intelligence decided to raid a building last night in the South Gloucestershire area. MI5 had been there a few weeks ago when thirty mercenaries had been killed trying to infiltrate it."

"Okay," said the PM, being careful what she said as Rupert was taking notes. "How do you know about this?"

"I've just been briefed. MI5 were keeping a discrete eye on the place, just in case there was another terrorist attack."

"And why the urgent call. Shouldn't you be taking this up with Ron? Defence Intelligence is part of his portfolio."

"Another group went in about an hour later. It looks like it was from a foreign country."

"Do you know which one?"

"Not exactly," said Lewis. "We have a few ideas based on their style, but not enough to complain, even in private. That's not the big issue though."

"It isn't?" responded the Prime Minister, slightly surprised. She thought having a foreign government operating on UK soil was a big issue.

"Rupert, don't write this down," said Lewis.

Rupert looked at his boss, who gave a small nod.

"Standard practice would be that the DI would have put some spyware onto the PC's they hacked. It might have been picked up by the second team."

"Rupert, I think you better leave this conversation," the PM said.

"Yes, Prime Minister, " he said, getting up. "The minutes will be a standard security minute that the Home Secretary discussed matters of national security with the Prime Minister."

"That sounds perfect. Thank you, Rupert."

When he'd gone, Lewis said, "I wish my PS was as good as yours."

The Prime Minister just smiled. She knew how good Rupert was.

"What's Ron playing at?" she asked Lewis. "First the military when I returned from visiting the aliens. And now this."

Lewis pondered, and carefully responded, "Ron has a lot of people under him from the old era. He has been told there is a threat, and he probably thought it was justified. Defence of the Realm. Yes, it might have made your job awkward, but you can't say he isn't wrong. How he went about it might be questionable."

"I've no idea if there is a defence for this interdimensional drive. I'd sleep better knowing someone couldn't send an assassin through it, or worse. Yet we always worry about new technology. Most things can be used as a weapon. A few decades ago, someone realised they could drive cars into a crowd. We didn't ban cars but put up barriers to make it impractical. There is nothing evil or wrong with the car. It's just someone misusing it in a destructive way."

"Has things settled down from your trip to the UN?"

The PM sighed, "Yes. At last. I didn't think the calls and discussions were going to end. Some of the implications came to light with the crew of Aurora taking it for a tour to various space agencies. I've no idea if they are trying to recruit additional pilots, but it certainly has highlighted a few things. They deliberately didn't step off the craft, so not to cause immigration issues, but if this becomes common technology, it's going to change the world. Alien pact or no alien pact."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, take this UN discussion. I was driven to the airport, took a six-hour plane journey and then another hour battling traffic. When I went to the alien council, which was a lot further away, I walked around the corner, climbed abord the ship and a few seconds later I was there. I had my meeting and was back here in less time than it took me to fly to New York."

Lewis nodded. "That puts it into perspective. At the moment, we have borders. We have watchlists. We can watch for undesirables trying to enter the country. We have control of immigration. Ships like that will take that away. I'm not sure that's a good thing."

"The internet meant there was no control over information. Some countries spent years trying to control that. They failed and after spending a lot of money and resources, they gave up. Is this inevitable?"

"I worry that Ron's next step is that because only one group understands this technology, it would be easy to stop it."

This was what she liked about Lewis. He was a good person to talk through issues with. He saw the bigger picture and was compassionate. He might be Home Secretary, but he also was the Deputy Prime Minister. "That might work in the short term. But people have seen it. You can't put that genie back. Scientists know it is possible; just not how. The hard thing is coming up with the ideas and having the perseverance to see it through. To not give up. Today there is just one team with that technology. Next year there could be ten."

"Why haven't they patented the idea?" queried Lewis.

"I suppose because to patent something you have to describe it in detail. Others would copy it and be damned. Coca Cola still keep their recipe a secret with no patent. Since their drive isn't disclosed, it means that people can't misuse is."

"People like Sally will have explained this," said Lewis. "I've every confidence that they understand the implications."

"Are you sure. You seem to have a lot of faith in Sally."

"They took on a life that not many would. They knew what they were getting into. From what I can gather, most who do that job stay for up to ten years. It burns them out. Some, like Sally keep at it. They know what they do protects – in some cases, the world. You worked as a peace envoy. You strove to make the world a safer and better place. They just do the same, but at a lower level."

"You know a lot about them."

"I know some, because I saw one of the things when I was young and I know a few people who are part of that world. But I've no idea of their current 'projects', nor who is in the hierarchy. All I ask is you leave them to it and don't try to find out who they are."

"I've not seen them do anything nefarious, so I'm going to leave it at that. For now. I've been thinking, we protect our nuclear power plants because if terrorists got onsite, it would be very bad. If terrorists got hold of that technology, it would be equally as bad."

"They're a private company."

"True, but our nuclear power stations are built and run by a private company. It doesn't stop them having armed protection."

"Fair point. I will look into it."

"Great and thank you for the information about what happened."

Taking that as his cue, Lewis went back to his office, leaving the Prime Minister wondering about Ron.

After a few seconds she went back to her desk and contacted Rupert. "What meetings did I miss, and what's next?"

"You missed a discussion with Sir John regarding the delays to the Sizewell C power plant. He said he'd pick it up with you this afternoon."

'Power', suddenly thought Georgina, wondering how the ship was powered. It must take quite a bit of energy. She'd not heard of any nuclear reactors being authorised, and anyway, it wouldn't fit in the ship. Could it be batteries? Probably not, even though they'd improved a lot over the years.

"Now would be a good time."

"You have a meeting with the Chief Whip and then you are going to parliament."

Georgina inwardly sighed. It was like her working day was planned in diaries and there was no room when things came up.

"Okay, can you see if Sir John can ride with me. Has Justin arrived yet?"

"He's just walked in Prime Minister. We'll be through."

They were soon sat in the room and Justin was quick off the mark. "There has been some rumblings of descent in the back benchers."

"Oh?"

"There is a feeling in some quarters that you are concentrating too much on the alien issue and not the country."

"Is this just back benchers, or does it include Cabinet ministers?"

"At the moment it is just talk in the restaurants and bars. There isn't anything concrete yet, but that is where things sometimes start."

"Noted. Can I ask a favour?"

"Sure."

"Find me one of our MPs on the order paper for tomorrow PMQ's. If there is a disgruntled backbencher, then so much the better. Prompt them to ask me the question about alien issues. Send me a message about who you've chosen."

PMQ's were Prime Minister Questions. It was a weekly event where other MPs could ask the Prime Minister a question. It was one of the most unpredictable events she took part in as she could be asked anything. There were too many MP's that wanted to ask questions that a weekly ballet took place just after the last PMQ's. The successful ones were listed on the order paper.

"Really?" Justin was surprised.

"Yes," said Georgina, a glint in her eyes. "Get ahead of the issue. Don't sweep it under the carpet as it just festers and the smell of mould is rather off putting. PMQ's are tomorrow, can you sort it for that?"

"Of course," he responded.

When he was gone, she sent an email to Craig. "Can you get someone to find out if there has been any new requests for power connection. I'm looking for something put forward late last year onwards. A large-scale connection request. Something probably odd."

She'd no idea where this information would be, but she knew that information would be somewhere. When she'd first started as a minister, she tried to learn everything she could, but quickly realised it was an impossible task. She'd learnt to ask what she needed, and her officials would find it. Then when she was Prime Minister, her job changed again. Her job was even more removed. Her job was now to set policy and try to steer a ship which often seemed to have no rudder.

Parliament wasn't far away, but the safety of the Prime Minister meant that security got very upset if she dared talk about walking there. She tried discussing it soon after becoming PM, and Sir John had described her as incredibly brave. The tone he used meant ‘Incredibly stupid and idiotic'. When she was younger, she'd read the books Dune and Foundation. Both were set in the future and described personal shields. Perhaps that's what she needed. A personal shield so close protection officers weren't always having to put their lives on the line for her.

Therefore, she was taking her bullet proof car. When she got in the back, Sir John was already in it, and Rupert followed after her getting in.

"Prime Minister, " Sir John said smoothly. "You wanted to talk?"

"Yes. What is the status of the investigation into troops greeting me when I got back from the alien council?"

He nodded curtly, not giving any feelings away. "I got a preliminary report, but I wasn't happy. I've asked them to dig more."

"Give me what you have."

"There was concerns that when you came back, there might be an alien with you, or they could be coming back in your ship as some sort of invasion. There was a high-level meeting between the SCO-39 and Border Force. The police were saying it was a border issue. Border Force were saying that it sounded like a hijack situation and therefore should be the army."

"Why wasn't Lewis informed? He is Home Secretary."

"That is what I'm endeavouring to find out. I mean, the aliens already have the capacity to get here. They could land anywhere, and we wouldn't know. There is no way they would have gone to all that trouble."

"Panic makes us all idiots," muttered Rupert.

"I'm afraid you might be onto something," agreed Georgina. "Find out why Lewis wasn't informed, and I want a plan so there is a set procedure. The scientists have published in a journal the science behind the ship. I've asked Martyn to have ISAAC look into ways to protect areas from the interdimensional tunnel. Now, tell me about Sizewell C."

"Safety checks have revealed some issues. They are working out a plan, but I think it's going to be at least a six-month delay, if not longer."

"This was supposed to be a duplicate of the Hinkley reactor," Georgina grumbled. "How can this one have issues, and the other not?"

"We should have a full report at the end of the week."

"Everything is ready when the safety issues have been resolved?"

"I believe so."

"The power lines connecting it to the grid are there?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Just pondering. Rupert, can you organise a copy of the construction contract and a summary. What we would be liable for if we didn't open it etc."

Sir John looked stunned. "You might not open it? You'd waste all that money?"

Georgina gave a small shrug. "I need to see the details. What is the use of committing to wasting more money, just because you've wasted some already. Sometimes it's better to draw a line in the sand. Anyway, this is something for later, but good to know."

Sir John thought he'd heard all the different forms of back sliding, but this was the biggest slide he'd ever heard. "You do realise that without that generation, there will be deficiencies when other stations close. The government wants to increase data centre capacity in the UK, but without power it would put too much demand on a creaking system."

"I understand. Hopefully when you give me the contract details later, you will be able to provide me details of how long the delay will be."

That night, when she settled down to review her Redbox, she saw the document on the Sizewell C contract as well as plenty more to read. She was so glad she didn't have to deal with the paperwork like her predecessors. The fancy electronic version of her homework was really quite stunning.

When finished, she went into the folder that had the research she'd had done weeks ago. It seemed much longer, with all the excitement. She found the information on Hilda and dug into it some more. She created a private workspace and started assembling information.

Evan and Liam she'd got today. The information on Hilda mentioned she'd married Richard Head.

'Unfortunate name', she thought.

Oh, and was now Rebecca. Interesting. That was the Becky that had been mentioned. The person behind the project. They had two children though one had died the day after Hilda. The words of Sally came to mind where she mentioned there was a child involved.

There were three other names she knew. Sam, James and another, just mentioned in passing. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to remember that day. 'Henry'.

Clicking on the microphone, she instructed her tablet, "Find me RAF pilots called James that have also served at NASA or a space agency."

There was a single result. She was surprised that her first enquiry to the government AI agent had worked. The picture was Captain James Partridge. She glanced over his file and one thing stood out. "Operation Fire Dance". She knew what that was. That was the ETP flight when she'd been infected by the Malachi virus. The flight that brought Hilda.

Some were destined for greatness. James was one of those. He never mentioned it on the flight to the alien base or back. He would have known who she was. Now she knew who he was. A hero.

There was a way to find them. Their tax records would show who they all worked for, but that was restricted. They were on a need-to-know basis, and she didn't need to know. She was surprised she'd been given clearance to view the military records.

She picked up her official phone and pressed a button. "I'd like you to connect me to a Rebecca Head. I've just shared her file with you – well, what I have."

"I've got the file," said the woman on the other end of the phone. She had a personal assistant every hour of the day. "I'll connect you when I have her."

Georgina had no idea how they would find her, but she had every confidence they would. She'd thought about just asking them to give her the number and make the call herself, but after some consideration, she'd decided she should treat this like any other activity. No shortcuts just because the military had violated their company and no shortcuts because they'd kindly given her a lift to the council.

She tried to read more, but her thoughts kept straying to the upcoming call. They seemed to be taking their time finding Becky. Pacing around her office didn't help, so she went into her kitchen and made herself a cup of tea.

After twenty minutes, she then wished she hadn't had that extra cup of tea. She needed the toilet but didn't want to go just in case the call got connected. She just got up to move her cup back to the kitchen when her phone rang.

It was Craig, not the call she'd been waiting for. "Hey Craig."

"Prime Minister," he responded politely. She'd known him and his wife for years. He used to work for her when she was a peace envoy, yet he wouldn't call her Georgina unless it was just them alone and not on work time. "I've got the results back about electrical grid connections."

It was perfect timing, and Georgina grinned. "And?"

"There was a strange request about two weeks ago. There was a preliminary feel about a 400MW connection in the southwest, with it potentially rising if required to 1GW. They'd said if successful, they would be able to put similar generation elsewhere. The scale they were talking about raised a few eyebrows."

"I bet. Do you have the name of the company?"

"Star Bright Science. Two of the directors are the two scientists who published the paper on interdimensional travel."

"And the others?"

"Rebecca Head and also Laura Taylor, from GWPP Services."

"Oh, now that is interesting. Great work. Please keep that to yourself."

"Sure," he responded. She was sure he was grinning.

Laura Taylor. This was the surprise of the day. No, this was the surprise of the week. She was one of the richest people in the country yet was either apolitical or non-political. Georgina just didn't know. She did know that government contracts had been awarded to Laura's company, as they were very good at what they did. Yet, Laura or GWPP didn't seem to use that to further their goals. She'd never seen them lobby for changes but just got on with the hand they were dealt.

She was pulled out of her thoughts by the pressure of her bladder. She rushed to the toilet, leaving her thoughts behind.

Eventually her phone rang, and she was connected to Rebecca Head.

"Rebecca. Thank you for taking my call," opened the Prime Minister.

"My pleasure," Rebecca responded, sounding rather nervous.

"Just to be open, all my calls are logged and notes created. Are you okay for us to continue?"

There was a small laugh. "Sure. When you phrase it like that, it makes you sound like one of those call centres. And please call me Becky."

"Becky," the Prime Minister repeated. "Firstly, I'd like to thank you and your team for taking me to the council. It was very much a journey of the unknown for us all."

"We were the only ones that were capable of doing that. Are you asking for us to take you again?"

"Not at the moment, but would you be willing if the need arises?"

"I don't have an issue with that, but it would be up to the others. It wouldn't be right for me to speak for them."

"Can I discuss the power that drives—"

The Prime Minister broke off as there was a knock on the door, and Sir John came in. "Yes?" she enquired.

"Sorry to disturb you," Sir John said, and then when he saw she was on the phone continued, "The chef has burnt the sausages."

She sighed. That was code that there was a situation close to war.

"I'm sorry Becky, I'll have to ring you back another time. Something pressing has come up."

"What's happening?" the Prime Minister asked, when the call was terminated.

"A general in the Pakistan Military has taken control of one of their nuclear silos. He has managed to keep control even after a unit tried to retake it. SitCen is monitoring. You are needed in COBR."

"Just one silo? Didn't I read that they only have two missiles per silo?"

"Yes. Their Foreign Minister and Prime Minister have been calling all the major powers asking them for help and not to retaliate. His target is the UK."

It didn't take them long to get to the Cabinet briefing room. This was one of the most secure rooms in the building. There was a guard that once he had confirmation that they had no electronics with them, opened the door. Even the Prime Minister wasn't able to enter that room with unauthorised equipment.

In the centre of the room was a long table, with several people sat around it. At the front was a large screen with several smaller ones around the side, giving information relevant to the situation. There was a large countdown that was gradually ticking down.

The Prime Minister stood at the head of the table and looked at those already there. "At the moment, I don't care how this occurred. Are you sure that the UK is the target? If so, where?"

She sat down, waiting for a response.

It came from Sir Nicholas White, the Chief of the Defence staff. He'd been the Air Chief Marshall before taking on this position a year previous. "Yes, the UK is the target, but we don't know anything more specific at this point. We might not know until they launch and track."

"And can they be intercepted?"

"We will try. We are more hopeful with these, as they don't have the masking technology that some other countries have."

As this was being discussed, Ron, the defence minister came in.

"Any idea why this is happening?" the PM asked him.

"He is worried about the end of Pakistan," said Ron. "He thinks some of the items discussed at the UN will mean the country won't exist the way it currently does, and that he is saving his country."

"If he thinks he's doing this for the good of his country, then he will never give up. Why hasn't he launched yet?"

"There are three groups of locks," explained Sir Nicholas. "He has managed to by-pass two. There is a central lockout code. He bypassed that by cutting the line. The system then thinks the central system has been destroyed, so goes into local mode. There is a two key failsafe system, which we are thinking he will not have an issue with."

"That's two items. What about the last?"

"There are two safes with codes on a timer. They can't be opened for sixty minutes of the central system going offline, unless overridden by a base commander and a deputy. They were both killed. This is part of the safety system."

"Safety system? A madman has still got into the silo and going to launch the missiles."

"Sure, but they have to have some system that can override if there is war. I'm surprised the safes are sixty minutes and not shorter. That is what the countdown is. When he should be able to access the code safes."

"And what are the Pakistan government doing to resolve the situation?"

"They attempted to send in a unit to retake the silo but were defeated. The silo is well secured. Another unit is trying to enter via a ventilation duct, but it is protected. They will keep going, but it might take them more than an hour. In the meantime, the Pakistan government are trying to talk to him, but it is radio silent. JTAC are recommending escalating the threat level to Critical and will be briefing Lewis shortly."

"Let them know I agree and get Lewis to announce it."

"Could we get the team behind that spaceship to send in a bomb?" asked General Roberts, the current head of Defence Intelligence.

"That needs accurate coordinates of the base. Do you have that?" responded Ron. "And if a bomb did go off there, what would that do to the missiles?"

"They should be shielded from that," the General said. "Well, ours are."

"Ours might be," said Ron. "But are theirs?"

There was no answer to that.

Ron continued, "So let's leave trying to get an external party involved to solve something that they wouldn't be able to help with."

Georgina asked, "If it is launched, how long would we have for evacuations?"

"Less than thirty minutes. Operation Albion Vault has been initiated, and The King and his children are already being evacuated. We are on standby for other essential staff. All military are on full recall. Phase one of Operation Nightcrawl has been activated."

"Understood."

The Prime Minister bowed her head slightly. The memories of her first security briefing after becoming Prime Minister flooded back. The plans she was told for situations like this or worse. The skirmish that made three countries uninhabitable had supposed to be the end to humanities stupidity. Leaders had stated they'd learnt the lessons but had insisted that they needed weapons as a deterrent. And now this. She raised her head and looked at the expectant faces.

"I'm not ready to move to Pindar quite yet, but someone should get Lewis to High Wycombe. I don't think the PM and Deputy should be in the same city. Ron, do you want to be here or at the AHQ?"

Pindar was a secure command centre in a bunker underneath Whitehall.

"I'd like to stay with you," responded Ron without hesitation.

"Lewis was already in his car, on the way here," said Sir John. "He is being diverted."

"NBC news in America have just reported that a Pakistan General has taken control of a missile silo," said Liam, one of the Number 10 aides.

"Any mention about the UK being the target?"

"No, but they did mention that America wasn't the target."

Time dragged. Reports came in, but the situation didn't fundamentally change. She talked with the Pakistan leader who grovelled that all was being done, and a team were trying to enter via a ventilation shaft. The fright of retaliation was obvious to all in the room.

America, Russia and China had raised their threat levels slightly but weren't on the verge of launching. A rapport had developed between those leaders. Instead of the normal squabbles, they'd all been in discussions about the alien council. Land grabs and Earth politics had taken a strange turn.

The countdown on the wall eventually reached zero.

"Are the Pakistan forces through the ventilation shaft?"

"Not yet," responded Sir Nicholas, looking at his operational lists. "They are still working to get through."

"They could launch anytime. Instigate phase two of Nightcrawl. Let's move to Pindar."

The underground bunker that was under them was kept at a constant state of readiness. Over the years the equipment had been updated and changed as the threat landscape changed. Some outlying bunkers located hundreds of miles away had been sold off, as they were no longer required. Yet if people thought the government had no shelter, they weren't aware of what was below.

There had been a few whispers over the years. Requests for new tunnels on the London underground were vetted and on a few occasions were told they couldn't go certain ways. There had been a few leaks. Even one of the prime ministers had allowed a dozen or so photographs of Pindar. They were just shown a small section. It made people think they knew what was happening and were happy there was preparedness. But the public were never fully aware how many times the UK could have been obliterated. How many times the world had walked to the edge of the cliff and nearly walked off into the abyss.

Moving to the underground nerve centre gave them something to do. When they were all seated around the large conference table the situation hadn't changed. It had a similar setup to the Cabinet Office Briefing Room where they'd been before. Now though, there was a real-time satellite video of the silo site on the screen.

"How is Nightcrawl progressing?" asked the PM.

"The Cabinet are all on the way. Juliet Ingles was in her constituency and might not make it to a shelter. The Royal Navy, RAF and Army are following shelter plans for the aftermath."

"Juliet's constituency is in northern England," remarked Sir John. "She might be better off up there. The chances are they will aim for London."

"I hope you're right. What's keeping them?"

"Whom?" enquired Sir Nicholas.

"The general that's taken over the silo. Why haven't they launched the missiles?"

"We don't know, Ma'am," Sir Nicholas responded. "We would have expected them to launch as soon as they could. They could be having issues, or the information provided to us was in some ways faulty. RAF planes are circling close to the silo, ready to try to take out the missiles before they get too fast."

"It makes it sound like you're eager for the deaths of millions of people," said Sir John quietly to the Prime Minister.

"That's not it, and you know that. I'm just wanting to understand what's happening."

"I know, I was just putting forward how some might have seen it. While we wait, did you manage to review the Sizewell C details?"

"Yes," said the PM, gazing between the live video from rural Pakistan and the scrolling names of people arriving in the bunker. "I noticed power demand expectations for the next five-years were old. I'm sure there are newer projections based on the more efficient AI models not requiring as much power.""

"I'll see what projections there are. You've also got to consider it is having the right generation in the right areas. It's no good having extra generation in Scotland if the demand is in the south. The grid interconnections are better than they were, but there are limits."

"Great. I look forward to that. When this crisis is over, get the Department of Energy looped in. Things seem to have degenerated into 'this is how it's always been done'."

"Review is good but remember big infrastructure takes a long time to develop. It doesn't help investors if there is constant change. The country would have benefited with having something like Sizewell C online a decade ago, but there was constant uncertainty that stopped its development when it was needed."

"You can't blame me for that!"

"Not that, but questioning if Sizewell C should be abandoned might make investors nervous about other investments."

"I understand that. Most of the money has already been spent so what savings would it give? From what I saw, not much. At least we can say we are going in with our eyes open. What concerns me the most is it doesn't seem the DoE has a grip on the situation."

There was sudden movement on the screen. People started coming out of the bunker entrance. They were quickly being grabbed and moved away. Another team went through the entrance before it could close.

"Their government are confirming on channels that the silo has been retaken," said an aide linked to SitCen.

"Good, but I want confirmation that the silo missiles aren't going to launch," said Sir Nicholas.

"Any ideas why they came out?" asked Georgina, shocked that it had ended so suddenly.

"Not yet. We might not know for a while."

Ten minutes later, confirmation was received.

"Permission to end Nightcrawl?" asked Ron, the defence minister.

"Yes. Get everybody home. Ron, Sir John, Sir Nicholas and General Roberts, a quick word in my office upstairs."

When Georgina left the room, she went to the main corridor to peak. She saw a stream of people leaving the bunker towards the main exit. There were looks of relief. Most would never know what happened. They might hear about the situation in Pakistan, but few would ever know that the missiles had been aimed at the UK.

It was twenty minutes later that the meeting took place. The Prime Minister was sat behind her desk, and there were four chairs with the four people she requested looking at her.

"Could this occur in the UK?" was her opening statement.

"No," was the clear and straightforward answer from Sir Nicholas. "We have chain of command that would not permit it. The general had gone rogue. This would be noticed in the UK military."

"When I arrived back from the alien council, there was military on the ground. So far, I've heard only tenuous excuses for why that occurred. However, on what grounds was last night's caper authorised?"

"Caper?" asked Ron.

"Defence Intelligence decided to break into a building in South Gloucestershire."

"General, is that true?" asked Ron angrily.

"That technology is a risk to national security."

"Oh, so you went in to destroy the technology?" queried Ron. "Did you also try to kill the scientists?"

"Of course we didn't try to kill them. That would be wrong."

"And did you destroy anything?" asked the Prime Minister.

"No, we tried to get the details."

"So that you could implement it yourself?" asked Sir Nicholas, getting red in the face. As Chief of the Defence Staff, General Roberts reported to him.

"No," said the General.

"You said that you went to destroy the technology, but then you said you didn't. Which is it?" asked Ron.

The General didn't answer.

"Did you put spyware onto their computers?" asked the Prime Minister, leaning forward to stare at the general.

"That's standard practice," he said in his defence. "See how it is being used."

"MI5 was watching that building ever since a team of thirty mercenaries tried to kill the occupants. Another team went in after yours. So, they will also have your spyware. Doesn't that now make whatever you have defunct?"

Sir John quietly got up and left the room. When he came back a few moments later, he was accompanied by two members of the Military Police who had been downstairs in the bunker. The general's actions were outlined.

"General Roberts, under Section 67 of the Armed Forces Act, you are being placed under arrest. Additional charges may be levied as the investigation progresses."

The general rose, straightening his back. "I'm a General. You can't arrest me like a common crook."

"There are no exceptions in the law," stated Sir Nicholas. "You broke the law. Tonight, you saw what a Pakistan General did, thinking he was protecting his country. You might not have tried to take over a nuclear silo, but you are just like him with no regard for the law and no regard for the chain of command. You are a disgrace to the service."

"You're selling this country to a dream of life in the stars," shouted the General. "Mark my words, this will be the ruin of the country and the planet."

"Sergeant," said Sir Nicholas to the senior of the Military Police in attendance. "Please get the Defence Serious Crime Unit to find the unit involved last night. They received an illegal command but followed it when they should have reported the issue."

The Prime Minister's office was soon cleared, and she trod a weary path back to her apartment upstairs. The commute was the simplest she'd ever had, but being constantly available was sometimes a bit draining. She thought about a weekend away in Chequers.

As she pottered around, her messages pinged. It was a letter from Ron. A resignation letter. She quickly responded. "Denied. You saw how well the military did this evening. Yes, the actions of one member of the military that come under your department, but the only person I know who won't let that happen again is you."

She looked at the time. It was far too late to try to get in touch with Becky again. That would have to wait until tomorrow. Well, later on today.